Desert Plains
by Jazmine Sackett
Summary: Narrated by John J. Battles, this story takes place right after The Lonely Men, by Louis L'Amour. John J. Battles decides to help William Tell Sackett to start a ranch in Texas even though Battles is sick of the heat. When they find a gold mine on the land Sackett purchases the neighboring ranchers try to scare them off. But they don't know very much about Sackett's.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters from Louis L'Amour's book The Lonely Men**

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When I opened my eyes everything at first was fuzzy and seemed to have a whitish glow. I thought maybe I was in heaven, but I wasn't quite sure if I could have made it there so I decided I must still be alive. Then my vision cleared and I found myself staring up at a hard wood ceiling.

I tried to think.

Where was I? What had happened? Slowly it came back to me. We were trying to get out of Mexico, Spanish Murphy, Tell Sackett and I. Tampico Rocca had died, Tell had said that, or had he? My memory was still fuzzy but I was pretty sure he had. Spanish had been hurt pretty bad, ever since we ran down that sandy slope he hadn't said a word because he'd been unconscious when Tell found him, and never woke up when we were riding.

Then I remembered riding into an Indian camp shooting we'd run right through it only Sackett fell off his horse, and with us running as fast as we could, we'd left him there. A sinking feeling tugged at my stomach. I'd left him there. I should have gone back.

I tried to think about what happened after that, Spanish's horse was tied to Tell's Black and we got separated. I remembered Indians coming out of the brush and that I'd been shot, more than once, beyond that, nothing.

But that still didn't explain where I was. Then I heard a step.

I sat up so suddenly that my head started swimming. A middle aged Mexican Woman was standing in the room.

"Where am I?" I demanded, saddening more panicked then I intended too.

"You are at my house, I live here with my husband." She said it as if she'd said it many times and was tired of having to say it again.

My second question was, "How long have I been here?"

"Sixteen days now," She replied with a sigh, "You are lucky to be alive, we had to take five bullets out of you, and one we didn't because it went all the way through your shoulder."

"What?" I was stunned, "_Sixteen_ days!?

Her face seemed to light up a little, "Perhaps you are not as lost as we thought. My husband swore you would die. Do you remember nothing?"

"I remember up to being shot. I was asleep for sixteen days?"

"No, no. You woke up every once in a while, asked the same questions every time, you ate something sometimes and pass out again."

"Thank you. You saved me. I am sorry that I stayed so long, I think I will leave now." Slowly I stood up, "Did you keep my horse?"

"Your horse is dead. Dead when we found you."

I said nothing, but I was irritated, how many horses did I have to have shot out from under me? That was the third time that had happened this year. I thanked her again and then I went outside. The sun was rising in front of me.

I was alive.

After the whole trip of running from the Apaches and fighting, riding as fast as we could, the heat of the desert, dying of thirst, I'd made it out alive.

The Mexican women came back out, "I would give you a horse but I only have one."

"How far is Tucson?"

"It is fifteen miles to the southeast."

That was good news to hear, I'd been afraid I was still in Mexico and I didn't like the idea of walking out. Walking fifteen miles to Tucson, seemed like nothing right then. I excepted the canteen full of water she gave me, and I started to walk.

When I got to town in was well past four O'clock and I was swearing up and down that once I got a horse I would never come back to Arizona, Mexico, or even New Mexico. The heat was just down right unbearable.

I stopped in the shade and leaned against the saloon. I needed a plan of action. Here I was in a town, which was great, but I had no money, no horse, and let's face it, no friends.

Even though I was broke I walked into the saloon. I needed information. If Spanish was alive, which I almost doubted, it was probable that he'd come here to find the rest of us. I also wanted to be sure that girl got the kids to safety.

Everyone who looked at me just merely glanced at me as if they weren't very interested in who came in, but everyone who did look, looked again.

I probably looked a sight, I hadn't shaved in sixteen days and I'd been wearing the same clothes which meant I was probably soaked with dry blood. I'd apparently been shot six times and I probably looked like I had been too.

With everyone staring it made me want to see what I looked like, so I glanced down out myself. Besides the fact that I had obviously been in a losing battle I wasn't much. I stood just six feet tall and I was leaning slightly to the right, my left leg was bothering me a bit, I had cuts and scrapes all over me, my right hand was bandaged up and my boots were falling apart.

If I'd have still had my hat I would have pulled it low over my face just then, but I'd lost it long ago so I couldn't. The bad thing was that I was broke and needed a job, and who was going to hire a man who looked like I did?

I walked up to the bar, most everyone by now was trying to mind their own business but everyone kept glancing at me while they talked and I had a pretty good feeling they were talking about me.

The bar tenders back had been to me but he turned around now wiping his hands on a towel and asked, "What can I get you?" Then he stopped short and just looked at me.

"Information," I said.

He hesitated, "About what?"

"Spanish Murphy, I'd like to know his whereabouts." The room got so quite you could have heard a pin drop. All eyes seemed to shift and look at the far right corner of the room, I turned around so I could look too.

Three Mexicans had been sitting there, but they were standing up now, Murphy was not one of them.

"Spanish Murphy is a friend of ours. And he is my brother."

"Is?" I asked, hopefully.

"I should have said 'was'." He replied coldly.

So he was dead? I was the only survivor among us? Sackett might have lived, he was a strong man. But last I saw him he was as good as a prisoner of the Apache, and I knew what that meant.

"So," The Mexican continued, "Just why are you asking after him? It has almost been a month since he died. Everyone knows about it, why don't you?"

I thought about replying but I decided I had something more important to say. No one knew we were going into Mexico, and if everyone knew about it now, that could only mean one thing. Someone made it back.

I turned quickly back around to face the Bartender, "Did those kids get rescued from Mexico?" I demanded sharply.

He was startled, "Yes...but if you didn't know…how did you…know?"

"Who brought them in?"

"A girl named Dorset," he replied, still looking at me in confusion.

"How 'bout Sackett? Did Tell make it back?"

"Yeah, Sackett took a job for Pete Kitchen just a few days ago and rode out."

Tell was alive! And I'd only missed him by a few days! Pete Kitchen's? I had to get there as fast as possible, I had one living friend in the world it seemed and my best bet was to find him. There was only one problem, Pete's kitchen was nearly a hundred miles away, and I had no horse.


	2. Chapter 2

I turned to leave and Spanish Murphy's brother was still standing there waiting for an answer, "Spanish was a close friend of mine. I'm sorry to hear that he died."

He wasn't expecting it, he must have thought I was his brother's enemy or something. Slowly he sat back down not having any reason to start a fight anymore.

Just then the door opened and a girl stood in the frame. She hesitated a moment and then took one step in, "Is there a man by the name of John J. Battles in town?" she asked hopefully.

I gave her another look. Slowly recognition dawned on me and her name came into my mind. Madison Lee Skeeter, the girl I'd left behind me in Boston. "Yup," I said, "I am he."

She looked at me with a look of horror and shock on her face, seeing me for the first time, "_What happened?!" _she demanded.

"I came back from Mexico."

"Uh, well here's some money; go clean yourself up, then there's something I need to talk to you about." she held it toward me, but I hesitated. I surely didn't want to be in debt, but I definitely needed to clean myself up, so I took the money.

The first thing I did was buy clothes, boots, and a hat then I washed myself up, shaved, and changed into them. Then I bought a horse and saddle.

When I met up with her again, I didn't look like the same man she'd seen standing in that bar, and I knew it by the startled look on her face she gave me. We went to the Shoo-Fly to eat, and to talk.

I ate nearly twice as much as she did and put away two cups of coffee.

She started the conversation; I didn't really have anything to say to her.

"Your Uncle, Weston Battles, has passed away."

"That's too bad, I'm sorry to hear it." The last time I'd seen my uncle he'd been staggering through the streets drunker then he'd ever been in his life. He used to be a top hand cattlemen but he just couldn't handle whisky.

"He was rich."

"How'd he get rich?"

"He quit drinking, found a gold mine and started a cattle ranch. It got very large and he owns almost a thousand acres of land. Well he did, until he sold it right when he was dying—he got thrown from his horse. And would you believe it? He made a will and he left it all to you."

I looked up, sure I'd heard wrong, "He what?"

Sure, my uncle and I used to get along great and he used to take me out riding and rock climbing but the more he started to drink the less that happened and I didn't figure we were close anymore that last time I saw him. He didn't have any kids of his own to give his fortune to, but me? I couldn't believe it.

Here I was thinking I was broke and in debt to Madison, and just when I need it I inherited a bunch of money. A bunch? Well, I had no idea how much it was. As long as it was forty dollars over what Madison had given me I'd be set for life…well, almost. As long as I could get a job that was, otherwise those forty dollars wouldn't last me very long.

"He left his money to me?"

"Yes, he did."

"Well, I guess everyone needs some good luck every once in a while, of course I don't really cotton to getting luck by someone's death…how much is he leaving me?"

"Thirteen thousand dollars. And he said he wants someone to send you his cows that he didn't sell, he figures that you'd want to settle down somewhere and ranch, or he said you needed too, so he didn't sell all of his cows."

I didn't even reply I just stood there staring at her with my mouth partially open.

She laughed and then asked, "Why didn't you ever reply to my letter?"

I felt my face start heating up. Why hadn't I replied? Because I couldn't even remember what she looked like at the time, it had been years since we'd seen each other she'd already married, but he'd died and I didn't see why she 'wanted me back.' She certainly hadn't wanted me back when she'd gotten married. And really, I was no longer in love with her.

"Letter?" I asked, for I had nothing else I could say that wouldn't sound rude.

"I sent you a letter asking you to come back."

"Oh?" I wanted the subject to change but I didn't know how to go about it.

"But you don't have to come back now that I'm with you, where are you going to make your ranch?"

"I don't know. I'm going to find my friend first and I'll probably start a ranch with him, it will take me awful close to Mexico; it's no place for a lady to go."

"But I want to come, if I don't I might never even see you again."

That was alright by me, she was really pretty, but I was over her and didn't really know how to tell her, "You should go back to your family," I said then I stood up. "When I get the money my uncle's sending me I'll write to you back at your home town, and I'll send money for everything I just bought."

She stood up, "Why do you want me to go home? Will you come to my town later to get me?"

The truth was better than a lie so I said, "I'm sorry Madison, but I haven't seen you in years and we've both moved on."

She looked hurt, "You moved on?"

"You got married."

"Well…yeah, but he died."

"Sorry."

"But you were in love with me! You killed a man over me."

"No, I carried a gun because he threatened to kill me, and when he decided to shoot me I beat him to the draw. It was self-defense."

"So, you're telling me to go away because you no longer like me?"

"If that's the way you want to put it." I had a strange feeling that she didn't actually like me anymore either, so what was her problem? Was it because my uncle left me money?

I stood up, "Thank you for loaning my money, I really needed it. I'll pay it back as soon as I can."

"How do I know you'll pay it back?"

"Because I'm a man of my word."

"Well, I think I'll come with you so that when you pay it back you can just hand it to me instead of sending it in the mail. It might get stolen."

"Well, I'm leaving in the morning," I left the restaurant and walked across the street. I wanted to leave right now, but I guess I would have to wait now.

I wasted the day away waiting for darkness to fall. It seemed like forever, but eventually it came. Then I waited until a few minutes after midnight.

Going into the stable I saddled my horse, "Technically," I told him, "Midnight is the morning and I said I was leaving in the morning, I'm not lying."

I swung into the saddle and man did it feel good to be sitting up on a horse. Then I rode him out of the stable.

The street was empty like I figured it would be and no one was awake to see me riding out of town, once a safe distance away I started my horse running and I headed south.

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**Authors note: Please reveiw and tell me what you think, and if there's anything I should change that sounds weird or something, Thank you for reading my story! :)**


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